Throughout "Late Nite Catechism's" nearly 11-year run, a veiled, wimpled and tongue-in-cheek Aubrey Manning has done her part to keep Seattle safe from gum chewers and note passers.

As Sister, a gently acerbic classroom disciplinarian and social commentator, she makes sure theatergoers mind their manners - and their skirt lengths - as they play along with the interactive spoof of Catholic doctrine.

It has been a great run - the longest stage show in Seattle history. But declining attendance means the curtain is about to come down. The final Seattle performance of "Late Nite Catechism" will be Aug. 31 at its longtime venue, A Contemporary Theatre. Until then, showtimes are Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m.

"I've been prepared to close for years," said Manning, who cheerfully calls herself "the longest-running nun in the world."

"It's a very sad thing," she said, "but I know I'll always be able to play that part."

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In fact, she's meeting in New York this week with Cloud 9, the show's producer, to hash out the possibility of opening out-of-town shows or playing in touring productions.

Before "Late Nite" came along, Seattle's longest-running show was "Angry Housewives," which ran in Pioneer Square from 1983 to 1989.

Manning, who lives in Mill Creek with her husband, Rob, also hopes to land other roles in Seattle. She planned to subject herself to a New York audition this week to toughen herself up for the job hunt back home.

Manning wasn't even looking for a job when she snagged the "Late Nite" role - she was an acting teacher researching the local theater scene for her students.

The show, which originated in Chicago, was expected to last a few months in Seattle, but Manning's good-humored take on Sister proved habit-forming. Initially, she shared the role with Maripat Donovan, who co-wrote the script with Vicki Quade.

"Late Nite Catechism" evolved into a communal event, with loyal followers returning time and again, often with friends, to mix it up with Sister.

"It's not like going to see 'Shrek the Musical,' " Manning said. "It's an experience, and they want to share it."

One recent audience included nearly a dozen former parochial-school pupils, now in their 70s and 80s and celebrating a reunion. Manning said she never makes jokes at the audience's expense and is "never, ever, ever disrespectful" to any religion.

Regretfully, she added, "I did make an atheist cry once, but I think it's only because he felt guilty." She told him, "Honey, when you die, I hope you're right," and he got tears in his eyes. But after the show he hugged her and put money in the collection basket.

Last Sunday one fan took in the show for the 26th time. Manning said the woman is battling leukemia and has written to say the show keeps her going - that "whenever I'm feeling down or feel like there'll be no tomorrow, I come see you."

As "Late Nite" prepares to pass to that great parochial school in the sky, audiences are showering Manning with hugs, and her own tears are flowing. But she stiffened her spine for the press and allowed Sister to offer this parting admonition for Seattle: Always sit at the front of the class.

"That's where the fun is," she said. "Be right there where life can hit you in the face."